


Closet Appetites

by 17734



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Bickering, Closet Sex, F/M, Hate Sex, Wall Sex, drugged tea(?), half serious half crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3697451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17734/pseuds/17734
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke finally locks Meredith and Orsino in a closet. For the good of Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closet Appetites

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by several ideas floating around on deviantart. Despite a lack of originality in plot (does this count as a plot?) it should be fun. Really, I just wanted to write Meredith and Orsino screaming at each other in a really small space. Pfffft, so funny. Spread the love for this pairing please!  
> Enjoy! ^^

The floor was approximately two by two square feet. The walls were made of stone and pressed in from three directions. The narrow space had been dusted, swept and cleared of the brooms it usually housed. The door was firmly shut, barred and warded with magical runes. The air practically hummed with tension.

Summarized, they were locked in a broom closet.

“You can’t lock me in a broom closet with this madwoman, Champion!” First Enchanter said edgily from where he was pressed between a wall and a furious Templar knight. There might have been a note of hysteria in his voice. “You honestly think we won’t kill each other?”

Knight Commander Meredith, who was the closest to the door and thankfully not wearing plate mail, heaved a short sigh but said nothing. Orsino’s argument was probably more tactful than anything she could currently come up with and it definitely contained fewer profanities. Her hands clenched to fists at her sides and her teeth ground in silence.

On the other side of the closet door, Marian Hawke was the soul of rationality and calm. “You can come out when you’re ready to behave like responsible adults and compromise with each other,” she informed them reasonably. “The fate of this entire city is hanging on your ability to cooperate!”                

Orsino tried again, more vehemently. “We won’t be cooperating,” he hollered, “we’ll be _dead!”_

“I’m inclined to agree, Champion,” Meredith added, her voice taut as she struggled to control her rage. “The current situation is hardly conducive to a peaceful outcome. This is why Orsino and I lead and _you_ obey our directives. You have terrible ideas!”                

“Actually, it wasn’t my idea,” Hawke said apologetically. “It was Isabela’s.”                

“And who is this Isabela?” Meredith demanded. “A rebel apostate hell bent on destroying Kirkwall?”                

“No, no, that’s Anders,” Hawke corrected. “Isabela is a nymphomaniac pirate from Rivain. You know, the one who stole the Tome of Koslun and instigated the Qunari invasion?” There was a long moment of dead silence. Hawke coughed. “Are you alright in there? Was it something I said?”

Meredith lifted one hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. _“‘It’s a social visit, Knight Commander_ ’,” she mimicked under her breath. “‘ _Why don’t you come to my house for tea and explain why I should support the Templar Order_? _It’d be terrible if we miscommunicated and I ended up supporting Orsino!_ ’ See if I ever ‘socialize’ with anyone ever again!”

“She said about the same thing to me,” the First Enchanter intoned.

“Well,” Hawke concluded warmly. “I think I’ll leave you to it. Don’t try breaking down the door, by the way; I had Sandal cook up a special enchantment that neither templars nor mages can dispel.”

“You can’t be serious about this!” Orsino entreated desperately. “Please, Champion! Don’t leave me here! Meredith will strangle me!”                

“ _I’m_ the one trapped with an extremely powerful mage who probably does blood magic!” Meredith hissed. “No one is falling for your damsel-in-distress act!”

“You’re not going to kill each other,” Hawke assured them confidently. She paused. “Wait, you did both drink the tea, right?”                

“Yes,” the two Gallows denizens chorused warily.

“Oh, good,” the Champion said, her tone bright and cheerful once more. “Well, goodbye!”

The sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall sent a chill of dread down Meredith’s spine. She was trapped in a tiny space with a powerful mage behind her and practically breathing down her neck. Orsino’s head thumped against the wall as he apparently threw it back in defeat. The mage and the templar were quiet for a minute or so, half hoping Hawke would come back with a reasonable explanation and a Qunari’s severed head under one arm. No such thing occurred however and they were forced to confront their dilemma.

“The enchantment can’t actually be unbreakable,” Orsino inferred optimistically.

Meredith inhaled slowly, prompted by his words. She concentrated, letting her faith pour out in a wave of holy power. White fire seared from her palm, striking the door and illuminating the closet. Orsino yelped, throwing up his arms defensively and jostling her. She ignored him, focusing every last bit of her ability on the door. The offensive panel of wood thrummed and glowed at the onslaught. When the white light dimmed however, the enchantment remained.

She swore colorfully and twisted violently at the knob. Needless to say, the punch and kick she threw at the door also had no effect.

“Sweet Maker!” Orsino exclaimed. “Be still! If you were wearing armor, I’d have broken bones instead of bruises from all your thrashing!”

“Why don’t _you_ get the door open then?” she snapped in reply.

“With what? Wit and charisma? You just drained all of my energy away!”

She pressed her lips into a thin line, her eyes narrowed. “Fine. We’ll wait for you to recover.” Orsino sighed but sank into a contemplative silence. She could practically feel the seconds crawling by.

“If I can’t get the door open, I could always blow a hole in the walls,” he mused after a while. “I’d have to throw up a protective barrier first though.”                

“And conveniently forget to include me in its parameters?” Meredith asked flatly. “Not a chance.”

“Oh, you saw through that?” he laughed in her ear, the words containing a poisonous undertone.

“I can use Holy Smite as often as necessary, mage,” the Knight Commander warned softly. “You’d do well to crush your murderous impulses.”                

“You’ve snuffed out hundreds of lives and you accuse _me_ of murderous impulses?” he baited her.

“I do my duty,” she answered shortly.

She concentrated on her breathing for the next few minutes, willing herself to be calm with every exhalation. The closet seemed to be getting uncomfortably warm. Her muscles were restless from standing still too long. The smell of parchment and herbs assailed her lungs, augmenting the heat of Orsino’s body half an inch from hers.

“I know what she put in our tea,” Orsino said quietly.

Meredith sighed. “What?”                

“Guess.”

Meredith felt a muscle near her eye twitch. “Are you twelve?”                

“No, I’m six years older than you,” he retorted.

“If you want me to strangle you so badly, I’m quite willing,” Meredith assured him.

“Hmm,” he said.

“Tell me!” she bit out, her patience frayed.        

“No.”

She whirled on him, catching him around the throat and pressing him against the wall. “I am so sick of you,” she said venomously, glaring at the aristocratic lines of his face in the dim light. Their breaths mingled. Her hips brushed against his as she pinned him. “You advocate your mages like no other could. You care about every single life under your protection, fighting to the last breath for their safety. That’s fine. It’s admirable that you do that- but why must you subvert _my_ duty? Why send warnings to apostates I’m about to attack? Why scream ‘abuse!’ to the Chantry every time we step in to correct a Circle mage’s behavior? Why sneak about with your herbs and your secrets, convincing Kirkwall that I’m insane and plotting who-knows-what in the dark?”                

He placed one hand delicately on her cheek, the mockery of a caress. “Because you _are_ insane, Meredith,” he explained patiently.

Meredith expelled a long breath, unexpectedly drained from her tirade. She felt more baffled and exhausted than angry, truth be told. “You are going to mess up,” she assured him wearily. “Someday soon, I will get the irrefutable evidence I need to get rid of you. You can join the Tranquil in their peace or let the Maker judge you. I don’t care. As long as I can purge the Circle of corruption at last.”                

“Hmm,” he said again.

It was uncharacteristic of him to brush off such threats. Meredith’s brow furrowed. He toyed with a lock of her hair, idly tracing his fingers through the blond strands. A sudden wave of heat curled in her stomach, so intense that her knees went weak.

“Oh,” Meredith said in revelation, grabbing his shoulder to steady herself. “ _That’s_ what she put in our tea.”

“I thought the comment about the nymphomaniac pirate would have clued you in by now,” Orsino replied dryly. The slight roughness of his voice did terrible things to her self-control.

Meredith turned around and banged her fists against the door of the closet. “Hawke!” she shouted. “ _Champion_ of Kirkwall! Let us out, damn you! You can’t get away with this! I’ll make your sister Tranquil!” Met with no response from the surrounding Amell Estate, Meredith let out a sharp breath through her teeth. “Has your mana recovered yet?” she asked.

“I have perhaps enough to conjure a cheerful little ball of light,” Orsino informed her, clearly enjoying her wrathful breakdown.

“Very helpful,” she bit out then paused. His hands were on her waist. When had that happened? Arousal pooled between her legs, a leisurely warmth spreading through her flesh. Beneath her red tunic, her nipples tightened into firm buds and goosebumps rose on her arms. She swore, gulping a shaky breath of air and slapping his hands away. “You could try a little harder,” she said scathingly.

“I thought seducing my Templar warden might get me special treatment,” he explained, nuzzling the fringe of her hair near her neck. His breath fell on her throat. “If not, I can always show Elthina my bruises and weave some heartrending story about being roughly molested against my will.”

Oh, Maker, she _hated_ him. She hated him. She hated him. She hated him-

Out of options, Meredith tried counting to ten. Orsino shifted closer, his hands finding her waist once more and languidly caressing her sides. When he pressed flush against her back, it was quite obvious how much he enjoyed standing behind her. Her legs shook. He couldn’t possibly be enjoying it more than she was.

“ _Champion!_ ” the Knight Commander shouted, banging on the door again. “Champion, open this door right now! I’ll make you wish your accursed line had never taken root in my city! _Marian Hawke!_ ”

“Ugh,” Orsino groaned into her neck, “your voice is like sandpaper. It’s giving me a headache.” He carded his fingers through her hair, his lips brushing the nape of her neck.

“Then why don’t you commit suicide and spare me the complaints?” she demanded breathlessly, shudders of pleasure rolling down her spine. Her skin was hypersensitive, every touch of his mouth tingling. Her head spun. Briefly, she worried that Hawke might actually be cowed by her threats and let them out; if that happened, he would stop. Then Orsino’s kisses grew hotter and firmer on her neck and his hips rocked against the curve of her rear. She stopped thinking about Hawke. Even through his silken robes and the leather of her breeches, she could feel the hard line of Orsino’s erection parting her cheeks.

She turned her head slightly, blindly pressing her lips to his in the dark. His arms wrapped around her waist, embracing her as though he had never wanted anything else in his life. She caught his jaw in one hand, testing the seam of his lips with her tongue, moaning when his mouth opened to her.

“Blackmailing me won’t work,” Meredith told him in between drugging kisses and struggling with his tongue. “Besides, not even Elthina believes every bit of nonsense you spew. You won’t get anything from this.”

His teeth grazed her bottom lip. His hands petted her stomach and hips, needy touches that set her blood aflame. She could see enough of his face to know that his eyes were closed. “I’ll get enough,” he murmured. He palmed her breasts through her tunic, kneading firmly, weighing them in his hands. “What’s this fluttering thing in your chest, Meredith? Some hapless bird you swallowed? It _can’t_ be a heart.”

“Knife-eared bastard,” she said without venom, pressing back against him and letting her head fall to his shoulder. Then his ear was just right there, looking delectable. Who was she to waste an opportunity? She ran her tongue along the blade, ending at the pointed tip. Her teeth grazed his earlobe.

Orsino moaned, the shameless sound tearing deep from throat. Then his hands were scrabbling at the buttons of her tunic, popping a few in his haste. She didn’t have it in her to care especially when he achieved his goal and pulled away her breast band. He squeezed and fondled his prizes, rolling her nipples intently between thumb and forefinger.

“You shouldn’t be this soft,” he said, his voice strained with lust. “Are you some divine joke? _Knight Commander Meredith_ ,” he mouthed at the shell of her ear, “dressing in steel, bathing your hands in mage blood, cruelly beating us down if we so much as _twitch_ \- and you’re beautiful, lithe, curvaceous, lush.” He spat out the compliments, hands running desperately over her hips than back up to her chest. “I have never before seen a woman’s body so _wasted_.”

She turned in his arms, grinding her hips into his and kissing his jaw. “I cannot hold a candle to _you_ , Orsino,” she said with a hatred of her own. “You use every last bit of your beauty, don’t you? The youngest First Enchanter in Thedas! I wonder how you sailed so effortlessly through the Circle’s ranks.” She traced his ear with her tongue, at the same time reaching down to palm his erection. He gasped, bucking against her and shuddering. “Did you whore yourself out?” she inquired softly.

He snarled at her, his fingers twisting in her hair, magic flaring in his veins. She took it, wrenching the power out of him and draining his newly recovered reserves. He thrashed against her, struggling until every last bit of it was gone. She pressed him against the wall with her body, not letting up. He exhaled raggedly, sagging against her.

“I’d buy you,” she mocked hoarsely, still rubbing at him through his expensive silk robes.

Never one to go down easily, he sank his teeth into her neck. Hard. Meredith jerked away from him- managing to retreat about half a foot- and her back hit the door.

“What a shame we’re trapped in such a small space,” Orsino commented through heavy breaths, placing a hand on the wall for balance. “Here we are, burning with lust, utterly besotted with each other and alas...the poor templar knight is limited by her own physiology.”

“What are you raving about?” Meredith demanded, far more concerned with the fabric concealing his body than the sting in her neck. She set to stripping him, pleased when he aided the process. His expensive robes pooled on the ground beneath their feet.

“Well,” he mused thoughtfully, sighing when she hungrily ran her hand down his naked chest, “you can either wrap your leg around my waist and let me fuck you into the wall…or you can take it from behind. Hardly commanding positions.”

Meredith paused, his words running through her brain. Then she swore harshly under her breath, explicitly questioning the broom closet’s parentage. He was right. There wasn’t even enough floor space for her to sit in his lap.

“I’ll let you pick,” Orsino added graciously, giving her a sweet peck on the cheek.

“Don’t make me blacken your eyes,” Meredith threatened, his smugness grating on her nerves.

“How will that get you off any faster?” he retorted, his fingers slipping into her breeches and drawing small circles between her legs.

She tried to growl at him but the resulting sound was more of a whine. She stepped closer, her hips working into his touch and her hands mapping the planes of his slender chest. He thought he was so clever. It really grated on her nerves. Having- _extremely_ \- clever fingers however did not mean he was right. She hooked her ankle around his knee and just like that he was on the ground, a startled noise escaping his lips. His face was now pressed against her thighs, his fingers curled around her leg for balance.

“Tell me, First Enchanter,” she said, threading her fingers through his hair then making a fist. “Despite your limited capacity for imagination, your current position should inspire you. Can’t you think of any other ways to please me?”

“‘Please’ is too tame a word, Meredith,” he told her, groaning when she lightly stroked the shell of his ear. His hands played with the hem of her rumpled tunic, slipping up to caress her stomach. “But yes…if I were so inclined.”

“Here I thought you wanted special treatment,” she leered, leaning back against the closet door and looking down at him.                                                          

“Is that an offer?” He pulled at her breeches, baring her legs. He wasted no time, running his hands over her lithely muscled thighs. His mouth pressed against her through her smalls. She hissed, her hips bucking against the wet heat. He paused, glancing slyly up at her. “All I ask in return is-”

“I am not extending the standard Harrowing times!” she snapped, predicting his words before he spoke. “I am not reducing the curfew and I am taking any strikes off the Tranquility list! Don’t even ask!”

He bit the inside of her thigh. She groaned and retaliated by pressing her booted foot against his groin. The pressure was enough to feel even through a tangle of robes; Orsino inhaled sharply, his fingers grasping spasmodically at her hips.

“Pleasure for pleasure, Orsino,” Meredith said softly, her voice a mere breath in the tiny closet. “It’s as fair a deal as any.”

“When I play fair, you win,” Orsino murmured and tore away her smalls.

Then his mouth was on her and she couldn’t think about his words. She couldn’t think about her hatred and anxiety, aggravated daily like a festering wound- no, it was gone. There was just heat, her pulse pounding in her ears, the closet walls embracing her shivering skin, the sinfully delicious feel of her worst enemy pleasing her with his tongue- and _Maker_ , could Orsino please.

He traced the creases around her outer lips, deftly caressing with his tongue. He was subtle, each stroke bearing a patient greediness, not wasting a single drop of her wanting. He tasted and teased, his tongue flicking shallowly into her. Her breath hitched, chest already struggling as she sucked in air. He sought her clit, coaxing the little bundle of nerves forward to meet his tongue.

“ _Ngh-”_ Molten desire shot through Meredith’s stomach. Her knees trembled, a mewl escaping her lips in spite of herself. She expelled a heavy sigh, letting her back fall against the door and her eyes half close. Orsino hummed against her core, leisurely caressing her thigh and urging her legs further apart. His tongue drew circles around her clit, delicately like a painter who drew desire.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging slightly to encourage him. He released a warning sound, still tracing self-indulgent caresses down to the back of her knee. She tugged again. He growled.

Then he caught her leg, pulling it up over his shoulder so that he was directly under her. His tongue thrust up, sliding deep inside her. Meredith keened, her free hand groping frantically at the closet walls, searching for an anchor that wasn’t there. Her hips bucked against his mouth, begging for the decadent torment of his wriggling tongue.

He showed no mercy, lapping at her until she was practically sobbing above him. She could not last, not balancing on one quaking leg with his tongue inside her and her sweaty fingers slipping on the doorknob. Her inner walls fluttered, tightening sporadically as he drove her to the edge. She came with a bitten-off scream, her hips jerking in his grasp and her body flushed head to toe.

The pleasure was simply disabling.

Orsino released her leg and Meredith slumped boneless against the door. She panted, concentrating on the push and pull of air through her lungs. Slick fluid spilled down her thighs, releasing a heady scent. All her tension was unwound, her muscles too weak to so much as make a fist.

Orsino drew her to him, one arm curling around her waist and his mouth meeting hers hungrily. She accepted him pliantly, too dazed to contemplate more than her own taste and the dexterity of the tongue that had just fucked her to completion. Orsino drew away to kiss her ear, nuzzling urgently beneath her jaw in a way that made her squirm. She hummed drowsily, shuddering with bliss when his teeth grazed her neck. If he kept doing that forever, she had no complaints.

When he spun her around, it was sudden. She found herself face to face with an offensively locked wooden door, her rump dragged back against the mage’s hips. She stumbled, catching herself on the door knob with a baffled protest on her lips. Orsino wasted no time, positioning his shaft at her entrance. She was wet, pulsing with heat and slick desire; with one thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.

They both cried out at the feeling. Meredith was over-sensitized, still quivering from the aftershocks of her orgasm and weak in the knees. Orsino’s arm around her stomach kept her upright, a strangled groan escaping him as her inner muscles clenched. She was too tight; slaying abominations and managing a Circle-full of complaining mages did not leave much time for personal affairs. For a moment, they both remained still, trying to collect their senses and control. Pleasure rolled through them in burning waves, pulsing where they were connected.

Then Orsino moved, sliding out and thrusting forcefully back. Meredith staggered, a spark of anger returning to her as she braced herself against the door. The feeling of his cock slipping in and out of her was overwhelming, melting her muscles and making her legs tremble. She could barely breathe around her gasps and low moans. Sweat beaded on her brow and across her palms, making her hands on the door slip. She was conquered, too full of heat and hunger to seize control. Now he was taking her from behind. The First Enchanter had gotten exactly what he wanted- by sabotaging her first.

_If I play fair, you win._

Meredith clenched her teeth, biting back another cry as Orsino hit a particularly delicious spot. She rolled her hips back against him, clenching around him every time he withdrew. Orsino gasped behind her, leaning his forehead against her shoulder blade. He grasped urgently at her hips, kneading the firm halves of her rear. This was some fever dream, conjured in fury beneath stifling covers and suffocating darkness. This wasn’t real. Meredith listened to the sound of Orsino’s voice, enchanted by the hitch in his breath and the stutter of his hips as he neared the edge.

Hating him had never felt like this. She found strength somewhere, turned in his arms, wrapped her leg around his waist. He swore softly, slipping himself inside her again with shaking hands. She dragged her teeth along his earlobe; he shouted, clinging to her, threading his fingers senselessly through her hair. His eyes were almost black with lust, irises a mere ring of green even in the darkness. He reached for her clit, stroking her higher with one finger. Hating him, or loving him, she continued to torment his ear with open mouthed kisses.

When she came, it was violent- a shock that made her body seize and spasm around him. She cried out, all her will and thought dissolving into shivers of fire. The intensity of her orgasm pulled Orsino after her. His hips bucked in short jerks as he spilled himself inside her. They both lost the ability to stand after that, collapsing in a tangle of limbs to the closet floor.

They lost a half hour or so, listening to the sounds of their breathing in the dark. It took about that long for Meredith to realize how extremely uncomfortable she was. There was not enough room for one person to sit much less two. She eventually pulled herself to her feet, looking dazedly down at the elven mage.

“That was…” Her voice was smoother than usual, all the rasp and strain washed out by honeyed pleasure. She fought off the urge to close her eyes and fall asleep against the door. “That was something,” she said finally.

“The best sex of our lives?” Orsino suggested in a breath. She just groaned in response, fixing her clothes with graceless fingers. “I still hate you,” he added quietly,

“I still hate you too,” she replied dryly, then paused. “But if you’re open to doing this again, preferably in a bed next time-”

“Yes,” he said at once. They were quiet for a long moment. Meredith stole a handkerchief from Orsino’s robe pocket to clean herself with. The end result, while fully dressed, was at least somewhat presentable. She twisted at the doorknob, only mildly dismayed when it didn’t budge.

“By the way…” Orsino said finally, “I am willing to make a compromise.”

“It’s not open for debate,” Meredith disagreed crisply. “Drugged tea or not, we’re too old to be trysting in closets.”

“I meant about work,” he informed her disparagingly. He got shakily to his feet, nearly falling against her in the process.

Meredith sobered, leaning back against the door. “Ah. Well then. For lack of anything better to do, I’ll hear your proposal.”

“The situation in the Gallows keeps escalating because of all the blood magic and apostasy on the city streets,” Orsino reckoned and Meredith hummed in agreement. “Outside support fuels rebellion, more mages flee the Circle and fewer devote effort to improving their life in the Gallows. The Templars take away more freedoms and they just rebel harder.”

“And you have a solution to this?” she asked skeptically, feeling a weight descend on her shoulders once more. “One that would work?”

“One that is at least better than the Right of Annulment,” he murmured. “I know that you sent for it.”

“Things are reaching that point,” she said softly.

“It would take some…cooperation,” he said. “I admit, I haven’t been terribly helpful. I only ever want to incite you, even if it’s irrational. But this…I can see clearly now.”

“The revelations provided by illicit, drugged copulation in a two-by-two broom closet,” Meredith intoned, raising her hands in an upward direction. “Oh, thank you, Maker.”

“I’ll need something from you,” Orsino informed her sharply. “Make the Circle mages feel safe. Lessen the curfew, allow mingling. Do not punish them for coming forward with information. If there are indeed blood mages within our ranks, lock them in the dungeons for rehabilitation instead of taking their lives.”

“If I loosen my grip,” Meredith said edgily, “the city will explode. I will lose knights like flies. What could you possibly give me that would make all this worth it?”

“I know the location of perhaps every apostate and blood mage within the City of Kirkwall,” Orsino answered.

She punched him.

After a few minutes of mutual swearing, Meredith reined in her temper. “Okay, okay,” she said, breathing deeply through her nose. “Why, that is just wonderful, First Enchanter. So good of you to come forward with this, and in such a _timely_ fashion! The innocent people of Kirkwall will be saved before the week is out, I daresay.”

“And in exchange for this information, you will comply with my demands?” Orsino prompted, holding his cheek where she had struck him.

“ _If_ the information is accurate,” she quantified harshly, “and not until the city is secured.”

“Which, as you’ve predicted, will happen before the week is out,” he concluded. “Next Monday then. You can announce the changes to the Circle yourself.”

Maker, she hated him.

“I will show no mercy to the apostates,” she stated resolutely.

“Fair enough,” Orsino replied somberly. “Trying to protect the mages beyond my reach is what has taken me to this point in the first place. I’ve made my choice- and so have they.”

“Good,” Meredith replied, her voice clipped. “We have a deal then?”

“We have a deal.”

They were silent for the next few minutes.

“How long do you think Hawke is going to keep us locked up in here?” Orsino inquired.

The Champion returned about thirty minutes later, which turned out to be enough time for Meredith and Orsino to groom themselves back into some level of propriety. Orsino had already summoned a gust of air, casting the scent of their lovemaking out of the closet. When Marian unlocked the door, wards shimmered around the panels of wood before vanishing. She immediately retreated to a safe distance. There was a half cringing, half relieved expression on her face as Meredith opened the door.

“Knight Commander!” the Champion exclaimed, tacking a smile onto her face. “You’re alive! I mean, you’re looking very well. Formidable and impeccably put together as ever! ...Is the First Enchanter still alive?”

Orsino stepped out from behind Meredith and Hawke visibly relaxed.

“Well,” she concluded blithely, clasping your hands together. “You two only look moderately bruised and very much at peace. Did you come to an agreement then?”

“Surprisingly enough, Champion,” Meredith affirmed crisply. “I am stunned that your outrageous, humiliating methods would yield any success but here we are. Rest assured, the First Enchanter and I can handle city affairs without your help from now on.”

“I doubt I can remain uninvolved at this point,” Marian commented idly. “I can’t seem to walk out my front door without tripping over city affairs. No matter. I’m fairly stunned this worked too. The Calming Draught I put in your tea really does wonders.”

“Calming draught?” Orsino asked sharply.

Hawke blinked. “Yes- it works wonderfully. A few years ago, it was the only way for me to stay sane when my mother dragged me to social parties. Perhaps I could give you the recipe?”

They stared at her in disbelieving silence for a few moments.

“Do not push your luck, Champion,” Meredith hissed finally, stalking past Hawke and down the hallway. “You are already fortunate that I’ve decided not to kill you- more because the city would riot in protest than because I think you deserve life.”

“Calming draught…” Orsino repeated incredulously to himself as he followed her.


End file.
